Peter Parker †

The guy barely got three steps before Spider-Man's web caught his wrist and yanked him backward.

"Yeah, no. We're not doing that tonight."

The thief hit the pavement with a groan, his weapon skidding across the sidewalk. Peter landed a few feet away, already retrieving the woman's bag.

"You okay?" She snatched it back, breathing hard. Apparently, she'd put up more of a fight than he'd expected. Peter glanced at the street, then at her. "You know, this neighborhood gets a little sketchy this late."

"I noticed."

"Good. That's the important part." He pointed toward the intersection. "Take the main street next time. More lights, more people. Or, you know, call someone."

He was about to swing away when she suddenly looked at him differently.

"Wait."

Peter stopped. "Yeah?"

"You've been around here for a while, right?"

"I get around."

"Then you might know someone."

Something in her voice made him pause.

"Who?"

She hesitated. Then she said the name.

"Peter Parker."

Peter froze. He knew her. Not well, but enough. She had been one of MJ's friends at school, someone who occasionally joined them for lunch, birthdays, group projects. He remembered seeing her around. He remembered her face. What he couldn't understand was why she was asking about him. For a second, the city seemed to disappear beneath the sound of his own heartbeat.